


Prey

by Sameafnir



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6417031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sameafnir/pseuds/Sameafnir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in season 2 of the TV-Series. LotS. The hunt was something a Mord’Sith could easily adapt to, Cara thought while silently following a deer trail. It was dark still; dawn’s rise only an hour or so away.</p><p>Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction - all events and actions are completely made up. I am not, nor do I claim to be, the owner of the rights to any of the characters in this work. No copyright infringements intended. READ AT YOUR OWN RISKS! You have been warned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This fic would not have turned out as it has finally without the immense help of seven_3_oh [Seventhreeoh] who not only beta-read this (which was a huge task!) but helped with content issues, suggested, added and corrected text passages.(mille grazie gioia)
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction - all events and actions are completely made up. I am not, nor do I claim to be, the owner of the rights to any of the characters in this work. No copyright infringements intended.

Richard was right. For once. The hunt was something a Mord’Sith could easily adapt to, Cara thought while silently following a deer trail. It was dark still; dawn’s rise only an hour or so away. Cara cherished these moments. The forest was very quiet, except for light breeze softly brushing the tree’s leaves. An occasional squirrel climbing or jumping from one branch to another. Other than that, silence.  
Sleep had been eluding her, making her restless so she had taken up her bow, belted on her hunting knife and quietly left the camp. Zedd continued his slight snoring not noticing her departure, nor did the Mother Confessor whose lithe body soundlessly breathed. Richard was keeping watch and had only nodded at her when she passed him.

She soundlessly moved through the dense forest and soon she had found some deer tracks. By now she had come to relish the hunt. When Richard had first introduced her to the hunt she was completely oblivious to the package of emotions that where entwined with it, like a key to its lock. The excitement it was stirring up within her was more than welcome to her now.  
The concept of the hunter and prey was a familiar one to Mord’Sith. It helped her to let out the wild side, the violent side in her that she had to keep in control otherwise since she had committed herself to Richard, the Lord Rahl. To be on the prowl was like leaving a cage and running free – a savage hunger out and ready to be fed. She smelled the air, mossy, fresh and cool. The wind was to her advantage. The tracks were soft imprints on the forest ground. Cara’s senses were ultra sharp. Her focus was entirely on the tracking and the prey and she followed them vigilantly. In the temple with her sisters they had not hunted. At least not like this. The prey at the Mord’Sith temple had been a different kind. And yet, the emotions it aroused were not so far apart from each other.

The excitement built up slowly at first, with each careful step bringing her closer to the encounter. Tracking the prey in the woods was akin to tracking her prey in the marble halls of the People’s Palace. Some would describe that excitement as arousal. Cara felt it building in much the same way as being with another in unrestrained ecstasy. The excitement took hold of her. The most anticipated moment of the hunt was seeing her prey, and meeting it eye to eye. Whether it be a buck in the lush forests of the Midlands, or a proud General of the D’Haran army; a small and delicate doe or the nervous new novice eyes flitting about in fear. On the hunt her muscles tense as the bow is drawn. Her breath held while sighting the prey. It was the same physical response, whether it is the bow in her fist or the Agiel. Her target in her sights, and it was up to Cara to determine if she were to take the life or leave it unharmed.

While tracking and skilfully moving on the soft forest ground, Cara felt the power that welled up within her increasing. It flowed through her freely. Her thoughts went wandering, to the quest, Richard and The Mother Confessor and their odd relationship, yet her senses remained keenly on the noises, tracks and smells. A good hunter aims perfectly and kills swiftly. A bad hunter injures the prey and must pursue it on its then terrified flight for its life; until exhaustion and blood loss overwhelm it, and it just breaks down to die or to mercifully receive the stroke of the hunter’s knife.

This is different than the ways of the Mord’Sith. The path of pain to devotion is the one aspired to with fierce determination. To break the prey and walk in white was the highest honour to achieve. Train or be trained. Dominate or be dominated. These roles were imprinted into every Mord’Sith from the very start of their training. Being out hunting gave Cara a little bit of this back, being powerful. The feeling of being in control. A control she seemed to have lost almost completely since she had devoted herself to the Lord Rahl and his entourage. This feeling of lost control was most intense with the Mother Confessor, Kahlan. Cara was at a complete loss when she tried to understand their relationship. She still felt uneasy, to say the least, around her. It was like they too were circling each other, wary, dubious and alert like hunters and prey. Yet they had not found out who was the huntress and who the prey.  
Cara was slowly closing in on the deer. She had been following it for more than an hour now. Her movements were graceful and efficient. Her body did not betray any noise while creeping through the bushes. She was the embodiment of a stealthy, dangerous predator. Her eyes were alight with anticipation, her cheeks flushed with the fairest hint of colour.  
When she drew closer to the deer she slowly took out an arrow from her quiver. Every move was an ample example of precision. The deer had found a sapling with juicy branches and leaves and was eagerly ripping them off one by one and chewing thoroughly. It would look up and roam over the little clearing from time to time but was completely unaware of its predatory follower. 

Cara licked her lips. She notched the arrow. It was a young doe, which would make a delicious stew. It was a beautiful animal with smooth light brown fur, big dark almost black eyes, its head held up attentively, almost proud as it moved elegantly about eating. Cara held on to the bow, which was drawn still. She suddenly had a flash vision. Kahlan standing in this clearing, her elegant figure erect and confident, directly looking at her, smiling an inviting smile. Her marvellous blue eyes taking Cara in, piercing through her in such a way that Cara could feel it all the way to her inner core. Cara blinked the vision away.

She stood unmoving. Her physical body was in control but her emotional state was not. Kahlan had this effect on her, and Cara could not fathom why. Often, when she would let her gaze wander at night, as they sat round the campfire she would notice Kahlan looking at her. Her blue eyes would be searching for something, almost demanding Cara to lock eyes with her. Cara could not read the Mother Confessor’s expression when she did this, and did not know what it was the other woman was looking for. When it first began happening, Cara thought The Mother Confessor wanted her to understand that she had an eye on her at all times and that she did not trust her. But after a time, it seemed to be something else, because whenever their eyes locked, Cara’s insides would knot and she would feel the urge to release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Although she berated herself for it, Cara would always be the one who broke eye contact first. This was usually followed by a strangely satisfied look on Kahlan’s face. Why did this image of the Mother Confessor come to her mind now? 

Cara forced herself to concentrate on the hunt in front of her, the prey that was oblivious to her standing so close, the arrow ready. It was difficult as her emotions continued to create the image of Kahlan in the field, staring at her. She couldn’t release the arrow into the field, not when her mind was showing her not a perfect doe, but the perfect embodiment of The Mother Confessor. Blinking her eyes and stilling her breath Cara forced her mind to focus on the deer with its wide brown eyes oblivious to her presence. She would not think about anything but the deer. Releasing a soft breathe the image of Kahlan vanished, and Cara could feel that it would not return to haunt her, a least for a little while.  
Her agitation left as quickly as it had come. Her whole body stilled, tense with concentration as she let loose the arrow. It effortlessly found its target and the doe fell on the spot. A smile crossed her face and a sense of fulfilment swept through her body. She hurried to collect her prize. The arrow had hit well and the animal was dead. Its dark eyes broken. She took her hunting knife out of her boot, took off her pack and set to gutting it right there. It took some time to skin it, slice the meat. Cara was not affected by the sight of blood nor the gory chore it was, to gut an animal, ever since her first night in the cave with the rats she had abandoned human emotions. Then the meat was put into her pack and she started to dig a hole with her knife to bury the rest of the carcass. All this was done calmly, with rational movements. Cara had laid down the bow and the quiver and was focussed on her task so she didn’t immediately hear a low gnarl only a few paces behind her. When she did, she made sure that her movements were slow and controlled. She had the knife still in her grip. With icy calm she bit by bit turned around.

A large grey wolf was staring at her, his yellow eyes alert and a deep growl emanated behind bared teeth. His head bent down menacingly as he moved warily from one tree to another, closing in on her.

Cara was on her knees, the pack with the meat lying beside her. The carcass almost buried under earth and forest debris, but the stench of freshly shed blood was still lingering. It must have lead the wolf here. Cara carefully looked around, her eyes never completely leaving the wolf. Wolves hunted in packs. They loved to chase their prey and when they had it, circled to attack as a pack and to tear their prey’s limbs apart. Wolves and Mord’Sith had much in common; the strategy for attack was a sound one. Cara had used it herself in the distant past. Not a very nice way to die, to be torn a part. But Cara had no intention of dying, just yet.

She couldn’t discern more wolves. This must be a loner. The wolf's yellow eyes glared intensely at her, his whole body posture that of a hunter ready to attack. Yet, he kept his distance as if to decide what or how to move next. Sniffing the air ... the blood. It was obvious it triggered him, but he seemed to be careful, as if wanting to be sure that the prey, Cara, was in the right position to be attacked. Cara was not pleased that she suddenly found herself in the position of being considered prey, and berated herself for not keeping her mind on her surroundings instead of daydreams about the Mother Confessor. Cara shifted from one foot to the other very cautiously, and put herself in a crouching position, her knife at the ready pointing at the wolf. Her lean body strained and was ready to face the wolf's attack. She did not dare to take out her Agiels, the knife would have to do. Her green eyes against the wolf's yellow ones. Another wave of excitement swept through her. She smiled. This would prove to be a real challenge. The wolf's lips were raised to expose its razor sharp teeth. Those were dangerous weapons.  
Long moments passed by. The wolf remained hesitant. He kept circling Cara who did not flinch nor retreat an inch. Her bow was in reach now but she knew she would not have enough time to grasp it and notch an arrow. And anyway the wolf was too close to shoot. Then suddenly in the middle of his circling he first changed direction, growled angrily and then he jumped at her. 

Almost simultaneously Cara tried to dodge but managed to only move partly out of the way, and the wolf hit her torso with his weight and they both fell to the ground. Cara was on her knees and spun around but the wolf was up and jumping at her, hitting her with his whole body, his mouth aiming for her flesh. Cara thrust the knife at him. The wolf winced, they both rolled over the forest floor, the wolf snarling and snapping. He got too close to her left arm, biting deep into her upper arm and gripping it fiercely. Cara cried out in pain. She was lying on her back now, trying to ignore the pain, as she slashed wildly with the knife at the wolf. Her breathing was quick and ragged as her pulse began to race. With her other hand she tried to slice the wolf's throat but missed. The wolf’s weight held her down; its claws ripped at her leathers and sliced flesh where it aggressively kicked her. Cara pushed and shoved at its body and managed to manoeuvre herself onto the side. From that position she aimed and thrust the knife again. Another low growl and whine, followed by warm liquid running from her knife and onto her chest. The pain in her arm grew, the wolf’s teeth had not let go of her arm, and on the contrary they tightened their grip in her flesh. The furious wolf not wanting to give up was tearing at her with all its might.  
Despite the roaring pain in her arm, she brought up the knife once more and this time plunged it strongly into the wolf’s throat. It slowly loosened its grip on her arm; blood flowing freely out of several wounds now, the wolf went slack whimpering one last time then nothing, but dead weight falling on her chest. Cara’s head was spinning, her breathing heavy from the exertion, and her arm burnt like a thousand Agiels were pressing on it. She very slowly and carefully disentangled herself from the wolf; the carcass weighed at least as much as a grown man. Once she had him off of her she sat up and took in her physical condition. The wound in her arm was deep and nasty, the wolf’s razor sharp teeth had left numerous bloody gashes, blood seeping out of them in a continuous flow but otherwise she had only suffered scratches from its claws all over her body, but they did not feel as though they were deep and would only need a thorough cleaning.  
She took out a spare cloth for the deer meat from the pack and used it as a makeshift bandage over her arm. It was far from being appropriate but it was all she had for now and it would have to do. The meat went back in the pack. After her breath had calmed and her pulse had abated, Cara took up her bow and quiver and wanted to start heading back to camp when her eye caught the corpse of the wolf lying motionless on the mossy ground it s grey fur matted with its own blood.  
Cara looked down at the carcass of the wolf, chastising it. A lone wolf shouldn’t assume it could be the hunter all the time. Wolves were meant to hunt in a pack, which is where they get their strength, much like the Mord’Sith. For this one wolf to think that he could turn the tables on her, that he thought he could make her his prey was a fatal error. Or, he must have been desperate, to engage himself in this fight.

A thought spiked in her mind along with the pain in her arm as the pack full of meat on her back shifted. A thought that she did not want. Cara was the lone wolf now. She no longer was a member of the pack; having been cast out. Was she like this wolf? Thinking that she could still be the hunter, regardless of the prey? Would that be her fatal error as well? She shivered, then let out a deep breath as if to force this thought away by mere breathing, and got up, ready to leave. Another deep breath and she stood straight and proud again, no, she would not let that happen to her, she was still Mord'Sith and would not go down like this wolf

The sun had come up and she had been gone longer than anticipated. She left the carcass of the wolf as it was and where it was.

It took her almost two hours to get back to camp, the deer had lured her farther away than she would have thought and her throbbing arm did slow her down,  
although she would never admit to that. Zedd and Richard were in the midst of saddling their horses, when Cara reached the camp. The Mother Confessor was in the midst of packing away her bedroll.

Richard saw her, “Cara, it’s about time, I started to worry about you...” then noted her bandaged arm. “What happened? You are hurt?” he walked towards her and tried to look at her arm.

“It’s nothing. I had an encounter with a lone wolf. That’s all."

Kahlan had put her bedroll on her horse and started to walk closer. Cara started to turn away and thrust the bag with the meat into Richard’s arms.

“A lone wolf!” Richard exclaimed.  
“Yes, he wanted my prey, or me to become his prey, but I convinced him otherwise” Cara stoically replied. Kahlan and Zedd had both reached her by then

“Let me look at the wound” Zedd said and came closer.

Cara took a step back and repeated a bit unnerved “It’s nothing really! I can take care of it myself!” Mord'Sith did not like to be touched unless they initiated it.

“Well, as you wish then. I was only offering my help.” Zedd grumbled clearly unhappy about this rebuke but turned to his horse nonetheless. Kahlan, who had said nothing, just looked at Cara with an unreadable expression and shook her head. Richard shrugged and took the pack with the meat to a rock and started to slice it in smaller pieces. Cara walked to her horse and took out some bandages and wrapped them quite unceremoniously but proficiently around her wounded arm.

Kahlan joined Richard and they spoke in low voices for a few minutes.

“All right then, we will do it that way.” Kahlan said to Richard and Zedd who was approaching the two with his horse. Richard took the reins of his horse and started to speak in Cara s direction

“Zedd and I are leaving for Storecraft, we will wait for the messenger we are expecting there, you and Kahlan stay here, someone must have an eye on the trade route, just in case the D'Harans come through this way.”  
Cara wanted to object, but as her look caught the Mother Confessor’s stern gaze, as if to say “I dare you to say something!” Cara closed her mouth and remained silent, standing with tight lips as Richard and Zedd left.

Richard called out from his horse “Cara, let Kahlan have a proper look at your wounds and tend to them!” knowing Cara, he did not wait for a response and nudged his mount into a light trot and soon they were both out of sight.

Cara inwardly fumed. How could Richard do this to her? Commanding her to let Kahlan help her with her wounds, let Kahlan see the damage and with that the weakness of being hurt. Did he want to humiliate her on purpose? Did he have a streak of sadism like his brother after all? With difficulty Cara maintained a stony impression on her face. As her eyes found Kahlan, she could not even think of why the Mother Confessor would want to do this, tend to her wounds, especially for her, the woman who killed her sister. Why would she even care? Kahlan had no reason to do this, she never came close enough make physical contact. As if they both knew, they always kept a distance between them. As if knowing that getting closer would prove dangerous. Cara had to look away when this thought crossed her mind. How would it feel, the touch of the Mother Confessor’s delicate fingers on her skin. Cara suppressed a shiver but could not prevent a rush of goose-flesh that came over her. She rolled her eyes in the direction of where Richard and Zedd had disappeared. Richard had managed to put her in a great situation, she thought cynically, having to endure this humiliation. She would obey, as she had of course but she would not betray herself by not being a true Mord'Sith.

Cara stood grim faced, bit her lip and turned away. Kahlan let out a sigh. Cara crouched down by her bedroll and pack and was rummaging in it when the Mother Confessor set her hand on her shoulder. She was towering over Cara, standing right behind her, her medicinal supplies in one hand, the other resting with ease on Cara’s shoulder. Cara twitched one eye, as blue eyes stared straight into green ones. 

“Let me look at your arm. You heard Richard.” Kahlan said in an even voice.

"It is but only a scratch, nothing I cannot take care of myself!” Cara answered defiantly. It was her last attempt of avoiding this, as she still did not want to become the object of weakness in the Mother Confessor’s hands. Kahlan let the medicinal pack drop to the ground, crouched beside the stubborn Mord'Sith and gripped the injured arm with her hand closing around it tightly. Cara inhaled sharply and moaned at the immediate pain igniting from her arm and emanating through her.

Kahlan loosened her grip when she saw Cara’s face go from sun golden to a pale white and a cold sweat breaking out on her temples simultaneously, as she swayed from the pain. “You will let me look at it. You are of no use to Richard, when you are hurt!” Kahlan’s voice had become the one she used after confessing someone. Stern and commanding.

Cara’s face was one of surprise and strange contentment. The command and the tone of it reminded Cara of the past, when following orders meant that she was a part of something greater, when she derived satisfaction from pleasing her commander and the other derived satisfaction from her absolute obedience and trust.  
This had been her life. She had had her place, her position in the Mord’Sith temple. That was the past now. To hear the Mother Confessor use her commanding voice with her like this felt wrong and yet it made her itchy. Her good hand had moved to her Agiel and closed around it, but she did not draw it. 

She inclined her head then, when the pain had subsided and with an unreadable gaze said “So, you do know the concept of inflicting pain, Mother Confessor.”  
Their eyes locked in a silent battle of willpower. Cara knew she could not win this one, especially not, when Kahlan was looking at her like an avenging spirit come to life. Beautiful, strong and in control, her blue eyes set on her. How could Cara not feel attracted to her? How could she defy her? She could not and realized she would always give in to Kahlan. She felt Kahlan’s eyes piercing her, going deep and steady, but she needed to maintain the illusion for herself.  
“Very well then, I’m all yours to command, Mother Confessor!” her voice clearly carrying a sarcastic undertone.

Kahlan let go of her wounded arm and blushed slightly. She had not intended to hurt the Mord'Sith, she had only wanted to emphasize that she wished to help her. Or was that really all that was to it? Whenever the Mord'Sith came to her mind her thinking became somehow irrational and fuzzy. She didn't trust Cara but she no longer hated her and there was something else she could not quite fathom, yet. It unnerved her that she could not get Cara off her mind. It would always happen just like that, while gazing into the fire after the meals they shared round the campfire, she would catch her thoughts and her eyes had wandered over to the Mord’Sith, or on the horse riding beside Richard she would suddenly realize that she had been observing Cara’s movements riding before them or when she was absent-mindedly touching her Agiel for comfort or pain to sharpen her senses or questioning her motives to devote herself to Richard and follow him. She had also caught herself having more intimate thoughts about Cara, watching her lean and handsome body move, envisioning it without clothes, her bronze skin smooth and soft, her full sensual lips wet from the touch of her tongue and her keen green eyes alit from the spark of a smirk. 

Despite these emotions, she could not let her confusion rule her. That was not like her. The Mother Confessor was always in control. And certainly a Mord'Sith  
would not change that. Kahlan needed to hold on to this for her own sake. She bent down and retrieved the medicinal supplies from the ground then turned towards some medium sized rocks.

“Have a seat over here and uncover your arm.” Cara complied with the order. She took a seat on one of the rocks beside the Mother Confessor, unlaced her leathers and simply pulled them down so that her upper torso was stark naked. Kahlan looked the other way, she hadn’t thought that the intricate making of the Mord'Sith clothing meant that the whole upper body had to be “uncovered”. Cara pulled her arm out of the leather, very slowly and cautiously, but did not wince, when the bloody mess which was her upper arm came into sight. She then remained motionless waiting for the Mother Confessor to start. The wolf's teeth had evidently left more than just marks; they had done in fact a good job of tearing flesh and muscle apart, leaving deep gashes. Crusty and clotted blood spread all over her arm. Kahlan flinched and said appalled “Nothing?! I'd say this needs a lot of stitching. Sit still. I will clean the wound first. That...” she paused a moment considering her words “... will hurt.” she finished. 

Cara just raised an eyebrow at her then pressed “Just get on with it.” and glared straight ahead. 

Kahlan took a wet cloth and methodically began to clean the wound thoroughly but gently. She was amazed at how resilient Cara was, not flinching not crying, because Kahlan knew that while she was being as gentle as she could, this had to hurt her. Once this task had been accomplished she took to needle and thread and began to stitch. Cara’s whole posture stiffened and the knuckles of her right hand were white from clenching. Beads of perspiration erupting on her forehead, but she wilfully refused any other sign of pain. Still not a sound or whimper from Cara, which made it easier for Kahlan to focus on the task of stitching the wound without worry of pushing Cara into any undo pain. If anyone could take the pain, it would be a Mord’Sith of Cara’s calibre. Kahlan was focussed on the wound.  
However she could not help but to glance at Cara’s body and take in the smooth bronze tone of Cara’s skin, which was so much darker than her own. What amazed Kahlan were her delicate collarbone and neckline, seeming out of place on a body that commanded so much power. As Kahlan stitched the muscles in Cara’s strong back twitched every so often, and even her shoulder blades moved on their own volition when the needle brushed against a nerve. Cara took in a deep gulp of air suddenly, through clenched teeth, and this caused her perfectly proportioned breasts to heave. She tried to focus on the needle, but the dark nubs protruding boldly from her golden breasts seemed to drawn in Kahlan’s eyes; she did not know if they were so erect from the cold, or something more. Cara’s blond hair brushed against the back of Kahlan’s hand, reminding her of what she was doing, and she pulled her eyes away from Cara’s chest. She took in the sight of the golden hair cascading lightly on to her shoulders. She knew all of this made her a very attractive Mord'Sith. Especially with her face stony, lips pressed together. Cara’s eyes were focussed on something far far away.

Kahlan’s mouth went dry when she realized what effect Cara’s exposed body had on her. There was no doubt, she indeed felt physically attracted to the Mord'Sith. Cara hadn't moved during the entire process of stitching but breathed audibly out when Kahlan announced that she was finished with the stitches. To finish Kahlan wrapped a bandage around Cara’s arm and while doing this their hands touched. Kahlan had never touched Cara before; in fact she had rarely seen Cara out of her leathers. She had pictured it though. She had also pictured Cara on her knees looking up at her, confessed and obedient. That thought sprang to the Mother Confessor’s mind. 

Kahlan felt the heat rise in her head, and it was not the fact that she had confessed the Mord'Sith in her imagination, but the sudden excitement she had experienced, when she imagined the cool blonde so humble in front of her, the thrill and the power over Cara that instant almost made her passionately shudder. The moment passed. She shifted, then and tried to draw her attention to something else. 

“Done with your arm, while I’m at it I’ll clean the scratches on your back as well, it won’t be much longer.” she affirmed verbally. 

Cara looked up at her “Thank you Mother Confessor.” It sounded genuine. She was still pale but maintained her position, her still naked torso close when Kahlan bent to inspect what the wolf's claws had left on her back. “You are enjoying this then?” Cara smirked. But stayed where she was. 

Kahlan recognized the attempt of being aloof, she took a new wet cloth and replied calmly “I do in fact...” she put in a little pause, for the dramatic effect, smiling to herself a little then continued “...enjoy helping people, you are right.” 

Cara turned her head and looked at the Confessor standing behind her and found her smiling wickedly “That was not what I meant.” she murmured.  
“I know.” Kahlan replied, all the while she went on cleaning the wounds. Cara sat like a lifeless statue in front of her. If it was not for her shallow breathing, Kahlan would have thought her to be one. After cleaning the numerous scratches and gashes which mostly were minor ones, she put the cloth away. Cara moved to cover herself again and rise but Kahlan gently but firmly laid her hand on her shoulder and said “Wait, I’ll put on something against infection. I have it here already, it won’t take long.” With a sigh, Cara reluctantly sat back on the rock. 

Again Kahlan could not suppress a smile, at the unlikely compliant behaviour of the Mord’Sith. She took the pot with the healing ointment Zedd had made and carried in the medicinal pack and put some of it on her fingers. Then she started to softly rub it in to the wounds on Cara’s back. When Kahlan’s hand first touched Cara’s skin she involuntarily let out a small moan, which Kahlan acquitted with a “Sorry I’m putting it on it as smoothly as possible.” 

“That was not for the pain … that was for ... contentment.” Cara reservedly admitted.

An “Oh...” escaped Kahlan’s mouth, “...I see.” 

“I doubt it!” Cara retorted, then she bowed her head a little further to expose her neckline to the Mother Confessor’s touch. To Kahlan the moan was an unexpected response, she had well understood Cara’s physical reaction to her touch and strangely she did not feel repulsed; on the contrary she again felt this rare reaction of the quickening of her pulse. Caused by a Mord'Sith, she reminded herself. Her hands lingered a little longer than necessary on each cut, gently massaging in the salve and when she reached Cara’s neckline and shoulder she felt how tense the muscles there were. She wanted to leave her hands there, relishing in keeping the skin to skin contact but she could not, it was not what she was supposed to do, or to cherish. This was not right. 

She withdrew her hands and said “All done now.” and started to move away. 

It was immediately followed by a “Don’t stop!” from Cara and a simultaneous grabbing of her wrist. Kahlan hesitated, frowned at her wrist held by Cara’s steely hold.

“If you ask me really nicely I might consider your request.” She replied with an undertone of Confessor arrogance after a moment. 

Cara tilted her head so that she could look into The Mother Confessor’s blue eyes, but did not let go of Kahlan, “Please, don't stop.” 

Kahlan smirked, and snootily answered “Is that is the nicest way you can think of to ask ? Surely your training must have included something more verbally sophisticated. You must try harder to get the Mother Confessor to even consider doing your bidding. Try again.”

Cara was not used to this kind of lordly response in the past and even now after travelling with Richard, Zedd and the Mother Confessor for months she was still unaccustomed to Kahlan’s ease at acting superior to others, when it suited her, dominating everyone, even Mord'Sith without the slightest hint of insecurity. Her blue eyes holding steady all other gazes until the other would look away first.

In the beginning Cara had tried to hide it, that the commanding tone and the superiority of the Mother Confessor had an unmistakeable effect on her, she involuntarily would want to bow down, look away or follow whatever order she would task her with. She would thrive in the familiarity of being commanded by an esteemed superior. Yet it was not only her sense of obedience connected with the familiar chain of command she felt, but also a strong longing to be close to her, closer than any other. Cara’s arousal was undeniable. Kahlan’s hands on her body had started her craving anew. She had wanted those hands to move all over her body. Possessively touching, probing every inch of her flesh, but then Kahlan had withdrawn her hands and challenged her with her Confessor voice. It was time to come to terms with this now, time for a decision. Cara knew it. She was ready for it. 

Kahlan’s eyes were on Cara’s now too. Cara looked up, and then in one fluid motion stood, leaned into Kahlan and kissed her on the lips steadying herself with her good arm around Kahlan’s neck. She let go of Kahlan’s wrist, and went down on one knee in front of her, still half naked, leathers down to her waist and her arms idly at her sides. “I would ask for the favour of your touch... please.” Cara said and bowed her head then so that her blond hair fell like a curtain over her face. 

Kahlan was too surprised to act. She stood there rooted, literally dumbstruck, taking in the unmoving figure of Cara on her knee, before her. Humble and suppliant – as inverse of Mord'Sith behaviour as one could imagine. The kiss had come so suddenly and unexpected and everything was so quick, she thought it might have been a dream. But it wasn't. Cara was there kneeling, in the same posture. 

Kahlan exhaled audibly. “Get up. There is no need...” she let the sentence trail open. “Since when do Mord'Sith kneel?” she said more to herself than to Cara.

But nonetheless the answer came evenly from Cara “We have simple rules. Command or be commanded.” Cara rose, “I .... you ....” she hesitated her face now right in front of Kahlan’s, she opened her mouth but no words emerged. Her eyes focussed on Kahlan's, Cara’s craving was so strong she believed it was showing clearly on her face, yet she did not move, nor did she finish her sentence. Cara was overcome, feeling once again as though she were being hunted, only this time, unlike with the wolf, she craved the attack. She needed the attack.

Kahlan felt it. Saw it. Breathed it in. There was no way she could not respond to it. Cara’s longing was radiating from her like a flower’s scent, multiplied. To Kahlan it seemed irresistible. As her hands grasped the back of the Mord’Sith’s neck and their lips pressed together, feeling and discovering it felt like it was as it should be, that she should be kissing Cara. That the softness of her skin, the taste of her tongue was so much more than she had ever imagined, or experienced with another. Her other hand grasped at the Mord'Sith’s waist, drawing her closer. 

Cara was pressed tightly to her own body now. Kahlan felt strange at first and couldn’t quite picture what it was she was feeling. Until it occurred to her, like a secret long hidden and then suddenly revealed. She felt possessive, thinking “Mine!” Cara’s tension eased, as she put her arms around Kahlan, clinging to her, savouring the closeness, the kissing. Boldly she kissed her back, hard. Her tongue searching, probing. Kahlan went with it, felt her hands on Cara’s skin, moved from her neck over her lean and muscled back, her shoulder blades, she drew a finger over them and Cara moaned in pleasure.

Cara was amazed at the focused determination that lay behind the silken soft lips of the Mother Confessor.

Then Kahlan rasped, “Down.” and both eased onto the ground, Cara let herself be lead and lay on her back, with Kahlan hovering over her, straddling her. And then Kahlan was taking her in completely, touching her face, caressing her cheekbones, her fingers travelling all the way down from there to her throat and neckline. Her mouth followed, teasing Cara’s skin with light kisses, her hands wandering to her flawless dark bronze breasts finding them smooth and nipples hard. She touched them, first one nipple then the other, circled it, and twisted it lightly, triggering soft moans of pleasure to come from the Mord'Sith.

Kahlan smiled while applying a bit more pressure to the nipple and whispered in Cara’s ear “Mine, all mine!” Then she moved to the other breast, adoring it with her mouth and started licking and kissing it. Proficiently playing with it and enjoying the physical response she got. Cara gazed at her with misty eyes as her back arched and she pressed into Kahlan’s touch, letting out small moans of pleasure. Kahlan leaned into her again when she had to breathe and leave the caressing for a moment and whispered “I want to hear you say it!” 

“Yours, all yours!” Cara murmured by now far from any rational thinking and emphasized this with her hands on Kahlan’s back tightening, as she stared up at her with hot desire mirroring in her eyes. 

Every moment that she relented and gave in to Kahlan’s stares across the flames of the camp fire had lead her to this moment, had prepared her for what she had always secretly craved. She wanted to be controled and dominated by The Mother Confessor. She wanted to bend to her will. Cara needed to feel as though she were the hunted, just so she could feel like she belonged. Like she belonged to the Mother Confessor.  
Kahlan growled with satisfaction and bent down to kiss her again. Savagely roaming all over Cara’s upper body. Kahlan’s breath brushing Cara’s skin over and over again, growing bolder each time, and possessively leaving bite marks along her way. Cara’s body eagerly responding to each kiss and touch made Kahlan feel powerful and in control. She took Cara’s arms and pinned them above her head, a hiss left Cara’s mouth, her arm wound hurt like hell still, yet she offered no resistance. 

At Kahlan’s sincere frown Cara said through clenched teeth “It's fine.” then attempted to kiss Kahlan as if to prove her obvious lie.  
Kahlan was but inches away from her head, but with arms pinned down over her head and the pain surging through her arm, it was not easy to move. But still Cara attempted it. The Mother Confessor gave in slightly though and met her half way. Their mouths flourished with one another, Kahlan had never felt an arousal such as this, knowing that Cara had given herself over to her completely. The Mord’Sith was always so very physical and so very overwhelming that it fuelled Kahlan’s lust to know that she was commanding this creature. That she could say or do anything to Cara and she would accept it and cherish it. All without the use of her power. That was what made Kahlan moan against Cara’s mouth, knowing that all of this was because of Kahlan the woman, and not her magical powers.

Kahlan realized Cara not only accepted Kahlan dominating her, she savoured being dominated by her. This perception hit Kahlan head on; she gazed at the blonde beneath her in awe. Lips parted, Cara’s eyes met hers. The look confirmed her suspicions. Cara was hers. That realization echoed through her body, and her blood. Blood that pounding in her groin, she wanted it all now, needed to have Cara squirm and experience pure pleasure at her hands, her command. She yanked at Cara’s leathers to free the rest of the blonde’s lean body. Cara avidly unlaced the rest of the laces and slipped completely out of her leathers. Kahlan took off her dress, yet did not remove her leather corset.

Their eyes locked again, excitement evident; Kahlan’s eyes were like a predator now, shiny with want and passion. Cara shivered then whispered, “Pain or pleasure, from you I will take all that you have to give.”

Kahlan stopped her with a passionate kiss and Cara drew her down on top of her. Kahlan’s mouth lingering on Cara’s lips, her tongue darting in and out. While Kahlan shifted her position to allow her hand to wander along Cara’s front, passing nipples and marked flesh hot and aching for more, she found the soft skin of her inner thighs. Cara was now passionately moving against her, pleading for her touch. Kahlan’s fingers found her clit, wet from anticipation, fondling the folds, slowly increasing pace and pressure, finding her sensitive spot and caressing it, circling it. Cara’s breathing became laboured; all the while Kahlan’s mouth never stopped kissing her, biting her, nibbling at her. Kahlan added a second finger, and started thrusting steadily. Cara immediately reacted, her back arched up to find a rhythm with her, when she found it, rocked with it, her arms held Kahlan close, moaning in ecstasy. Cara’s eyes half lidded carried away by her now all consuming lust, her body squirming and about ready to climax.

Kahlan bent down over Cara’s face and demanded “Look at me, now!” 

Cara complied, opened her eyes and came on the spot, with a soft cry when she gazed directly into Kahlan’s glorious blue eyes. Cara sagged down on her back. Her breathing still hard. Yet satisfied. Kahlan smiled feeling strangely content, leaning in to her, kissing her vehemently, before shifting to lie beside her. Cara’s green eyes found Kahlan’s and she smiled impishly. 

“You are such a skilled huntress; it seems as though even I have become your prey!”  
Kahlan snuggled closer, putting an arm over Cara and replied with ease “And I do not plan on letting my prey escape.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple of years ago actually. While reading fanfics about Clexa / Clarke & Lexa lately i thought why not post this here. Unfortunately currently not writing fanfics anymore for various reasons. Feel free to leave a comment, or not.


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